


when you want to come home

by liamneeson



Series: you looked like christmas morning [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Art inside, F/M, Falling In Love, pidge and lance make a brief appearance, the castle of lions lived BITCH!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 16:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15561420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamneeson/pseuds/liamneeson
Summary: A love like spring: well-deserved and lovely.





	when you want to come home

**Author's Note:**

> you don't need to read 'honey, honey' to read this one, but it won't hurt to do so? also the perfect man exists and his name is hunk so jot that down.  
> (edit) aaaAHHHH so there is art for this now, drawn by @alamangoes on twit pls check it out/follow her bec its the best

 

 

> **_(1:59 am)_ **

Hunk startled out of his sleep when he heard knocking on his door.

Disoriented and uncoordinated, he jumped out of his bed and got his foot tangled into his sheet, tripping himself and falling on his jaw. Not his greatest moment. He was groaning and rubbing his chin when he opened the door, only to find Romelle, bundled up in pajamas that seemed to be complimentary in the Castle. Hers were baby blue and fit a little loose on her skinny frame. It was the first time he was seeing her hair completely down.

Those details seemed unimportant when he saw the bags under her eyes, and took in how she shivered, just a little bit.

“Is everything okay?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes. Sorry. We’re you sleeping?”

Maybe she just wanted to hang out? It was hardly the hour for it. He needed all the sleep he could get on normal times, because an emergency was always imminent when there was only one giant robot defender of the universe. “Well, yeah. I mean… It’s almost two.”

Her swallow was audible, and her flush was obvious. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think before coming here. Please go back to bed--”

Hunk caught her by the wrist just before she could turn away. “Whoa, now. What’s the matter?”

Still looking ruffled, Romelle spoke in that jumpy manner she did when she got nervous. “I had a nightmare and it was dark in my room.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ Hunk immediately softened. “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“I’ll make cookies.” Hunk announced.

“What?” she asked, but Hunk was already stepping out of the doorway, pulling her with him in the direction of the kitchen. He looked like he still hadn’t fully woken up yet.

“Baking always helps. It’ll make you feel better,” he said, as if it made all the sense in the world. His hold on her slid from her wrist to her hand, radiating a comfort she didn’t know she needed until now.

  

 

> **_(2:25 am)_ **

He swiped a finger into the dough and offered it for her to taste. A small smile curled the ends of Romelle’s lips as she bent to take his finger into her mouth. The blood rushing under Hunk’s cheeks felt fever-hot, and he almost felt faint when her tongue slid against his digit, effectively collecting the chocolate-flavored mix off of it.

“Sweet,” she remarked. There was a bit of batter over her lips, and he badly wanted to confirm what she just said.

  

 

> **_(2:35 am)_ **

"What did you have a nightmare about?"

"It's always the same..."

"Tell me anyway."

"It was my friends. My parents. My brother. Stuck in those pods, slowly robbed of their very essence, and I watch them die. And they did, Hunk, in real life. I'll never see them again."

  

 

> **_(3:10 am)_ **

The batter was done and already baking in the oven. The anguished look still persisted on Romelle's face. Hunk was always quick to want to absorb someone's pain away, and the need felt tenfold tonight.

"Come on." Hunk stood, dusting flour off his shirt front. "My grandmother used to listen to music when we cooked. And we would dance."

A tentative smile crept up Romelle's lips as she joined him by the oven, where the smell of vanilla and chocolate was strongest. He offered a hand and she took it. "But we don't have any music." She let him guide her hand onto his forearm, and held the other one.

"We can make do. Just follow my lead, okay?"

Hunk began to step back, then to the side, and almost immediately, stopped trying to remember the steps of the waltz, opting to sway side to side. Romelle must have figured out that he didn't know what he was doing because she laughed, the sound of it like a victory for Hunk.

He hummed a tune as thoughtless as their dance, feeling for the first time in a long time that he wasn't choked by what the universe demanded.

 

 

> **_(3:13 am)_ **

Their steps slowed, and with an unpracticed ease, she slipped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Her front was pressed against his warm form, her hair crinkling against his linen pajamas. Hunk thought: _this is nice._ Romelle smelled like minty soap and her happy sigh made him feel as safe as he did back home. Always with her, there was the low-creeping sentiment of wanting _her_ and _home_ to collide, and sometimes, he thought it meant that he wanted her to be part of home, to meet his family and see his world, but sometimes, he thought it meant that he wanted her to _be_ home, to be the first thing he woke up to, to be the warmth he fell asleep to.

  

 

> **_(3:15 am)_ **

The oven dinged.

He had stopped humming moments ago but they remained with their arms wrapped around each other, basking in the dawn of this little joy they were feeling but reluctant to name. Romelle was the first to come around, clearing her throat as she peeled herself off Hunk.

On his part, Hunk chuckled at how shy she suddenly was, and unable to help it, pressed his lips to her hairline. As soon as he did it, he wished he hadn’t, wished for one quiznacking second that he’d stop to think before he did these things. He’d kissed her before, yes, but this felt _new,_ more intimate somehow, and also more intrusive, because she was grieving and raw, and it stopped feeling like he was comforting her and was just indulging himself instead.

And yet, Romelle wasn’t acting appalled or put off. She only mirrored the flush on his cheeks and looked like she couldn’t believe he’d be so bold.

It was Hunk’s turn to clear his throat.

“I’ll go get the cookies.”

  

 

> **_(4:01 am)_ **

The milk and cookies ceased to be. Hunk and Romelle were already walking back to the sleeping quarters, minus the hand holding this time.

He’d gotten her to laugh again when the still hot cookies were plated and he explained Earth jokes in between bites. He was out of things to say again, but it wasn’t bad at all. The air felt void of any awkwardness, and maybe that was just because they were both sleepy again.

Once at the corridor to the private bedrooms, Hunk felt Romelle tug on the sleeve of his top.

“May I sleep in your room tonight? I’m still afraid.”

 In that moment, Romelle looked her softest and Hunk felt a surge of protectiveness. He’d give her the world, if she asked, but he couldn’t vanquish the terrors that waited for her in sleep. He could only be there when she woke, be a shoulder to cry on, distract her from her pain during her waking hours.

  

 

> **_(4:09 am)_ **

They squeezed into his bed, a tight fit considering it was not made for two. Hunk suggested that he just take a pillow and sleep on the floor so she could have more room and be more comfortable, but she called him ridiculous and said she couldn't kick him out of his own bed.

So they managed with the confinement, pressed together not uncomfortably, feeling each other's gentle breaths, succumbing to exhaustion’s strong pull together.

"Wake me up if you have another bad dream, okay?"

"Yes. Thank you, Hunk. You always manage to be just what I need."

  

 

> **_(10:41 am)_ **

The artificial lighting of the Castle shone, signalling the morning cycle. It fell in a gentle wash over Romelle's face, soft and pillow-streaked from sleep. Wakefulness was just catching up to Hunk, and he came to his senses slowly. The cool, overhead light was bright, the gentle whirring of the ship was not unlike a beast's quiet purr, and there was the prettiest girl sharing his bed. He blinked three times, just to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, still, but the vision of her endured and soon enough, Hunk began to accept her corporeality, first from how she had a foot wedged between his ankles, then to how her hands held the sheet trapped under him, as if she fell asleep trying to take them, then to how irritating her hair felt against his neck.

It was just as slow that Hunk came to the realization that he had fallen in love with her. It might have been the light bouncing off her pale cheek, or the unimposing romance in the morning air; whatever the case, he thought it was just lovely to wake up to clarity about the girl who had kissed him and shared her pain with him. Too few were blessed with such straightforward emotions like the ones he felt at the moment, and he told himself _damn if I not do anything about it_ . He remembered his mother telling an easily upset younger version of him that feelings were like the rain, in that they came and they went and one must never expect for it to fall when they wanted it, nor should they beg for it to go when it became an inconvenience. Hunk didn’t _think_ what he felt was as wishy-washy as the rain. He thought it was more like spring: well-deserved and lovely.

 

 

> **_(11:04 am)_ **

Finally out of pajamas and back into civilian clothing, they walked into the kitchen to find Lance and Pidge with their own plates of food goo.

It was almost comical how Pidge's spoon paused halfway into her mouth, how Lance gaped like a landed trout. Almost, if the shameless staring didn't make Hunk so _uncomfortable_.

Lance turned to Pidge. "Do my eyes deceive me or are Hunk and Romelle doing the first walk of shame the Castle has seen?"

Pidge pushed the frames up her nose. "I feel compelled to point out that it's almost noon, which makes it twice as scandalous."

Hunk groaned and split off Romelle's side to make for the goo machine.

Romelle put her fists on her waist. "What's scandalous about sleeping with each other?"

When Hunk choked from all the way by the dispenser, Lance and Pidge burst into laughter.

"Okay, you _know_ she means we just slept together. As in, slumber-sleep. Hardly scandalous."

"Oh, yeah, hardly." Lance waved a hand at Hunk dismissively. His shit-eating grin grew when Romelle joined them at the eating nook. "I'll say both of you look well-rested."

"Does this mean you guys are together now?" Pidge asked.

"Come on, guys, bug off," Hunk pleaded as he set a plate in front of Romelle and took the seat beside her. "It's too early for the Spanish Inquisition."

"And don't think we'll be more receptive of it later in the day," Romelle said.

"How about tomorrow?" Lance countered.

Hunk groaned again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hunk and romelle exist in my head to the tune of drops of jupiter. i'm @m1rajens on twit!


End file.
